


Office Romances, They Never Last

by round_robin



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, office role play, role play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 15:16:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11443551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/round_robin/pseuds/round_robin
Summary: “Harkness!”The sudden call startled Jack so much, he dropped his pen. Fumbling to grab the mouse and click out of the screen, he knew it was already too late.The arm of a crisp suit jacket brushed against his hopelessly polyester collar as his boss’ arm reached past his shoulder (a little too close, but still not close enough). He waggled a finger at the computer screen. “What’s this then?”





	Office Romances, They Never Last

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to rewatch Torchwood. Because apparently I hate myself and love sadness. Anyways! I got this idea for Ianto/Jack office role play and I just couldn't resist writing it out.
> 
> If you find a typo, please include it with your comment and it'll be seen to. Also, not Brit-picked. As always, enjoy.

“Harkness!”

The sudden call startled Jack so much, he dropped his pen. Fumbling to grab the mouse and click out of the screen, he knew it was already too late.

The arm of a crisp suit jacket brushed against his hopelessly polyester collar as his boss’ arm reached past his shoulder (a little too close, but still not close enough). He waggled a finger at the computer screen. “What’s this then?” Mr. Jones asked.

“Uh, it’s a live feed from the International Space Station,” Jack sputtered out. “I really like space—space travel, the technology, all of it, really. It uh, it helps me relax and get my work done.”

Mr. Jones shook his head. “If you say so, Harkness. How far along are you on those reports?”

“Yes, right.” More fumbling as Jack shifted through his papers. “I’ve got them here, they’re almost done.”

Mr. Jones raised one wonderfully bushy eyebrow and pulled up his sleeve to look at a battered old watch. Ianto Jones was a strange boss, he was always immaculate and dressed to perfection, but many shabby ornaments decorated his office and even his body. The old watch was just the start of it. On more than one occasion, Jack had seen him with a scuffed pocketwatch dangling from a chain, a dusty silver mirror, and even a tattered leather bound notebook sitting out on his desk for the world to see. Ianto Jones appeared to be a man who valued appearances while still holding tight to worn out objects. Was he a sentimental man? Jack would give anything to find out.

“Well, I’m extending your deadline,” Mr. Jones said. “I have another project for you and this takes priority.” For a brief second, his ‘professional boss’ face fell away and Jack got a glimpse of the man behind the crisp suit and attention to detail. “You heard about the redo they got goin’ on the south offices, yeah?” Jack nodded but didn’t say anything, he didn’t want to interrupt the smooth stream of Welsh vowels. That beautiful, melodic voice poured down his spine like honey, pooling in his groin. Jack shifted his hands over his lap to cover any... compromising situations that might arise.

“They’re mostly cleared out, just the supply room to go. Only Bryan’s called out sick today. We need an inventory of everything in there before it’s all boxed up and moved around the building. It’s already half done and you’d only be in there for today.”

It was Jack’s turn to arch an eyebrow at Mr. Jones. “Inventory? You want me to do inventory?” Lord knew he wasn’t the highest ranking member of this team, but Jack was an analyst, not some grunt who fetched tea and coffee and did fucking  _ inventories _ .

Seeing Jack’s reluctance, Ianto leaned in, closer than Jack would’ve thought his boss deemed acceptable. He crossed his legs to hide his erection a little better. “Please, Jack?” Ianto said. “I’ve got a boss too and there’s shit he wants me to finish as well. They’re starting work tomorrow morning and we need this done. Help a bloke out?”

Oh, how could Jack say no to that face? That beautiful face, all creamy skin and full lips just begging to be— “Yeah, sure. Let me just put my desk in order and I’ll get right down there.”

“Thanks, Jack. You’re a great help.” Mr. Jones placed one strong hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Jack’s stomach fluttered at the contact.

He watched Ianto walk away, appreciating the way his hips swayed and how the sharp lines of that suit just accentuated everything... Jack probably needed a few more minutes at his desk before he was ready to stand up.

When things finally cooled off and Jack attended to his menial task, he did find most of the work was done with only a few more shelves to go. Bryan’s clipboard and tally sheet were sitting there waiting for him on a stack of paper boxes. Jack shook his head and sighed to himself. Time to get to work.

Six boxes of highlighters; seven packages of sticky notes; two boxes of five hundred count paper clips (a one smaller box of thirty novelty paperclips shaped like stars someone probably ordered by mistake while hungover after the Christmas party); three staplers. Fuck, this was boring. One box of two hundred count binder clips.

And on and on it went. Jack spent the better part of the next hour checking boxes and listing endless amounts of office supplies. All so it could be boxed up and moved to different parts of the building without getting lost. That was management for you—too cheap to risk losing one package of sticky notes and deciding to put their best analyst in charge of a fucking inventory. He didn’t blame Ianto. Like he said, Mr. Jones had a boss too, and he didn’t grudge the man for working out of a tight spot (even if that tight spot was management’s fault in the first place).

Three printer cartridges; one box of copier toner; a three hole punch; a spiral binding machine; ten boxes of twenty count pens.

Jack crouched down to count exactly how many dusty three ring binders were languishing in this supply closet when something else caught his eye. The strange shine of clear plastic tucked behind the binders felt out of place. Everything in the supply closet was more or less organized. He couldn’t imagine some clamshell package of paperclips ended up with the binders.

He pushed aside the binders to investigate the mysterious plastic object and nearly dropped his clipboard. A bottle of “Super Wet!” silicone lubricant stared back at him. It wasn’t industrial lube, not even WD40 for squeaky doors, it was straight up, “fuck me hard in the arse,” lube.

He didn’t know why, but Jack picked up the bottle. He stood back up, his fingers sliding against the slightly slick bottle. It was half empty. Another thrill of attraction shot down his spine. Who was in here getting off during the work day? I couldn’t be Bryan, that kid was too straight laced to take home a pen from his own desk, let alone rub one out on his lunch break. Then again, sometimes the quiet, shy ones were the wildest...

“I see you’ve found my stash,” a smooth voice purred in his ear.

Jack dropped the bottle only for Ianto to catch it. He didn’t dare turn around. If he didn’t turn around, didn’t make eye contact with his boss, they could both pretend this didn’t happen. Ianto would take his lube and leave. Oh God, the thought of Ianto rubbing one out in this supply closet while the rest of them were out there working.

“I can’t believe it took me so long to remember it was in here,” Ianto said, still behind Jack, still whispering in his ear. Why wasn’t he leaving? He had what he came for, why didn’t he just end this awkward (and arousing) situation? “When Bryan didn’t report finding it, I thought it must be in another supply closet. I remembered where I hid it a few minutes ago and rushed in here, hoping you hadn’t gotten to it yet.”

Ianto took a step forward, the front of his immaculate suit pressing against Jack’s back, his hands sliding down to rest on Jack’s hips. He felt the heat of Ianto’s chest through the expensive fabric, felt the strong grip of fingers through his own much cheaper suit trousers. He reached out and braced himself against the shelf.

Biting his lip, Jack managed to squeak out, “I can—I can pretend I never found it. I promise, your secret is safe with me.”

“Mmm, why would I want you to do that?” Ianto ran the fleshy tip of his nose up the back of Jack’s neck, making him shiver and grip the shelf tighter. “I see the way you look at me, Jack. I know you want me. As you said, you already know my secret, so why not go for it?” He reached under Jack’s arm and the bottle of lube appeared in his peripheral vision. Ianto waggled it suggestively. “What do you say, Jack? Wanna fuck the boss?”

It was all too much—the close space of the supply closet, Ianto’s casual brushes against him, his giant crush on his fucking hot boss—and Jack finally exploded. He’d been thinking about this for years. Fantasies and daydreams (sometimes wet dreams) of what was under that suit. After so long, there was only one answer Jack could give.

“Yes,” he moaned and leaned back into Ianto.

Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack, pulling him in and pressing feverish kisses up and down his neck. Hands slid down to Jack’s trousers and unbuckled his belt. Ianto chuckled at what he found there, but not out of derision, it was a laugh of joy at the pleasures about to come. “Well, someone’s eager.”

“You have no idea.” Jack thrust his hips a little, forcing his rock hard cock through the circle of Ianto’s fingers.

Ianto stroked his cock for a moment—long, slow strokes that left Jack begging for more—then pulled away. Jack tried not to whine as Ianto’s hands disappeared. The sound of a zip reached his ears and Jack’s cock jumped in excitement. Not waiting for Ianto, he unzipped his trousers all the way and pushed them down his thighs. Bracing himself on the supplies shelf, he tilted his hips, offering his arse.

“God,” Ianto gasped. “Fuck Jack, you’re just fucking perfect.”

Slick fingers pressed their way inside of him and Jack moaned. “Oh yeah, you know what I like.”

“Yes, I do.” Ianto didn’t say anything else after that.

Talented, experienced fingers worked Jack open, Jack moaning and groaning the whole time. But Ianto didn’t rush. It wasn’t his style. He took his time, made sure Jack was hovering on the edge of insensibility—jibbering and begging for Ianto to  _ just fucking put it in me already! _ —before pulling his fingers out and slicking his cock.

Sliding into Jack was always a beautiful feeling. His body seemed to know Ianto and bend to fit him exactly. Ianto didn’t delude himself about Jack’s storied past fucking his way across the universe, but sometimes, when they were close like this, his breath hot on Jack’s neck, Jack moaning for him to  _ keep going don’t stop never stop _ , it felt like they were made for each other. Like puzzle pieces. Only they fit together this perfectly, only they were really, and truly meant for each other.

Ianto thrust hard and Jack moaned louder than before. He threw his head back onto Ianto’s shoulder, come splattering all over the shelf in front of them. The force of Jack’s orgasm pulled Ianto over as well, he thrust one more time, burying himself into Jack. Part of him wished he never had to leave.

After a moment of heavy breathing and sloppy kisses, Ianto pulled out, sagging against Jack’s back. Jack, ever aware, even after a mind shattering orgasm, caught hold of him. He turned around and helped Ianto to sit. He nodded his thanks, placing his hand over Jack’s, making their connection last just a little longer.

Another few moments passed and Ianto returned to his senses. He retrieved the tissues and wet wipes he stored away and they cleaned up. Jack was already itching to get out of his cheap suit and began to pull at his tie even as Ianto tried to straighten it for him.

“C’mon,” Jack said. “I want to get out of this monkey suit.”

Ianto clicked his tongue and opened the supply closet door. “It’s not my fault. You’re the one with the office fetish.”

Jack shrugged it off. “I like what I like, I will not be shamed by you, Mr. Jones.”

Ianto rolled his eyes and went to follow Jack out. Out of the corner of his eye, he surveyed the damage. He didn’t have the energy to clean it up tonight, and besides, he was the only one who really used the supply closet. Then, he noticed the victim of most of Jack’s come.

“Oh,” Ianto said. “You got that box of star paperclips.”

“So?”

Ianto smirked. “Gwen loves those things. She’ll probably come down tomorrow to get a few more for her desk.”

The color drained out of Jack’s face. “Well, maybe we should clean up a little.”

He reached for the door handle, but Ianto was faster. He slammed it shut, locking it and tossing the keys in his pocket. “Good night, sir!” And with that, Ianto ran out of the tourist office with the only key to the supply closet.

Jack swore under his breath. Well, maybe Gwen wouldn’t notice...

 

The End


End file.
